I don't think that I'll ever really get used to the glare coming out of the vault. Even after the seventh or eighth time coming out, it still hit me. The outside of the entrance had transformed somewhat, Sturges had been working round the clock, taking every spare minute to strip the rusting hulks that surrounded the elevator. Apparently part of his secret project, at some point, he was going to have to tell me exactly what that project he kept disappearing off to work on was.

Still, we followed the same trail that we always did down to the neighborhood, tracks were starting to wear a groove into the ground, boot prints occasionally interrupted by the huge raptor claw prints Goris left, and long drag marks from where Sturges and others had pulled some of the larger pieces of salvage. From the elevated position, it was clear that the neighborhood was slowly changing too, the most obvious differences being that two of the collapsed houses had been entirely cleared away and the roofs of all the houses that were currently inhabited had been patched with the spare materials. Many of the dead trees had been brought down as well. Somewhat surprisingly, the huge oak in the center of the cul-de-sac had been left untouched.

Walking past my old house, I noticed that Codsworth had been hard at work, all of the holes in the roof had been patched and most of the holes in the outside walls had too. His construction subroutines were really paying off. That reminded me, I would have to check my bunker and see if I still had the mod kit he came with, it might speed up the rebuilding process.

Just as we passed, we were waylaid by the robot himself. "Ma'am, it's delightful to see you out and about. Tell me, how did your excursion go last night? Mister Garvey mentioned that young master Asher was injured. I do hope it's not too severe."

I wondered if Codsworth actually cared about Asher or if it was just because I'd mentioned that he was valuable to me. Still, I smiled at the fragment of my old life. "He'll be fine Codsworth, he's in surgery now, but he'll be fine."

If the butler had teeth he would have been smiling. Instead he just switched back to the cheerful tone that was his default setting. "Right you are ma'am, I'm sure the lad will be right as rain in no time." Then his eyestalks dipped again and his voice module switched to contrition. "I do apologize for not having the repairs to the house done yet ma'am, but Mister Sturges keeps requiring aid in his projects, and Miss Rebecca has been asking me to help her renovate the DiPietro residence, or rather her new residence, and-well there's just so much to do ma'am and I thought it would be impolite not to assist the new neighbors."

I shook my head, laughing. "It's fine Codsworth, I'm happy in the vault. Worry about the others."

Codsworth tilted his lead eyestalk, "If you're certain ma'am."

With a dip in altitude serving as a bow, he hovered off to whatever task he had next on his priority list. Mikhail pointed at the group clustered together in front of the Long's house. "That is the caravan that Ben came with, but he is with Preston and Goris in Rosa's old place."

"I'll speak to the caravan later," I turned and started across the street. "And we really should just start calling it Sturges's workshop."

The bear shrugged, "Old habits and all of that American drivel."

"Commie prick."

"Capitalist whore."

Our laughter got us a few odd looks as we stepped into the workshop. Sturges had really set about making himself at home there. The walls were covered with printouts, it took me a second to realize that these were from the ISA database. R&D's research was always good for warzone operations. The floor was now scattered with junk in a strange mix of chaos and order. In some places, piles of detritus seemed to be organized by their basic components, in others they seemed to form the half-beginnings of future projects.

The man himself was at the table we generally used for meetings, He seemed to be stripping the copper from lamps and disassembling some of the improvised rifles that we'd stripped off the corpses of raiders.

In what used to be the kitchen stood Preston, eternally in his faux colonial duster, speaking with the man who I had to assume was Benjamin Warus. He was the first non-feral ghoul that I had ever seen, the difference was obvious. Unlike the ferals, Warus stood with the same ramrod posture drilled into every marine from day one, his musculature was somewhat less than what one would expect from a drill sergeant, but nowhere near the emaciation of the creatures I'd seen outside of Gorski's. His kit was ancient, but exceptionally well maintained, grey combat armor, polymer plating and combat harness over a black bodysuit. His helmet sat on the stove, and to my pleasant surprise, the shoulder of his armor retained the bright red and gold chevrons and crossed rifles that formed a lovingly maintained gunnery sergeant insignia.

An M27 IAR sat on the counter next to the helmet. It was quite apparent that Warus had kept his equipment in remarkable shape considering the two centuries of use it must have seen.

After this moments observation, I stepped around Sturges's workspace and extended my hand. "Gunnery Sergeant Warus, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

When he turned around, I got a good look at his face. For the most part, it didn't seem too badly damaged, oddly smooth and pink with a number of scars spread around his face and neck, his skin had a few odd creases in some places and seemed worn thin in a few others. Painted on his breastplate, just over his heart, was the seal of United States Marine Corps. He grinned, showing off a set of slightly yellow, but otherwise normal teeth.

"Good to see you again ma'am, and please, it's just gunny." He returned my handshake with a surprisingly strong grip. "Been a while since FOB Blueshift," He stepped back and looked me up from down, "not that you look it."

FOB Blueshift? Ah, that's where I knew Warus from, he'd been part of Operation River Snake. We were training Chinese dissidents at a hidden base in Tibet, the initial plan involved using Green Berets, but we needed them for a separate operation in Thailand. Nate spent most of his career officially under the umbrella of Army special forces, but he'd actually been pulled out of the marines after infantry school. Nate had recommended Warus, his instructor from Parris Island. Warus had handpicked a couple of others to serve as trainers, the whole operation was crucial for the Gobi Desert campaign later.

Recognition dawning in my eyes, my face cracked in half with a grin and I almost hugged the old leatherneck. I'd take every piece of my old life that I could pick up. "Well, cryo isn't the worst way to stick it out for two centuries, easier than your way I suppose."

He snorted, "I'm a marine, the hard way is the only way I know." He looked around, "Now where is Captain Foggy, Ruskie over there wouldn't tell me. If that boy thinks the end of the world means he can slack off, he's got one hell of a wake up call coming."

It took me a second to realize what he was talking about. Foggy was Ben's old nickname for Nate, after the name of the ISA's tactical division, the Field Operations Group. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

Ben looked at me oddly, and then his grin fell. "How did it happen?"

He deserved to know, so I told him about the deep voiced mercenary and the hazmat suits. I told him about the booming gunshot and how Shaun cried as they took him away, and how I pounded on the glass as they took him away, how it was the only thing I could do.

By the end of it, his wrinkled old hands were clenched into fists. "We're going to find these people Madison, and we're going to kill them, we are going to cut out their living guts, and use them string the bastards up from the highest tree I can find. I promise you that."

It almost made me smile, Ben was many things, but nuanced was not one of them. His friends were his friends, his enemies were his enemies. Friends were to be helped, enemies were to be murdered without remorse. It almost made me smile again. "Oh, I know that Ben, believe me, I know."

It was at that moment Goris decided to make his entrance, knocking over a pile of half-disassembled toasters. "Apologies," He was wearing his cloak with the hood fully covering his face. "I have concluded my business with the merchants. I am ready to leave as soon as the rest of you are."

Mikhail nodded, "Horoshij, I'd like to get this done and be back here before nightfall."

Oh, that's what they'd been waiting for. Sturges looked up from his work as if only just now realizing that his workshop was filled with people. "Time to go?"

"Damn skippy, drop your cock and get your socks boy." Ben hadn't raised his voice, but somehow it seemed to project itself into every inch of the room. A skill that came after the first decade of experience as a drill sergeant, I had to assume.

"Gotcha," he pulled off his gloves and shoved them in a pocket on his tool belt.

I turned to Mikhail, "On your way out, find a vest for him, from now on, everyone is tacted up for ops in any possible hot zones."

The Russian nodded, the marine looked at us all curiously, as if surprised this even needed to be said. Preston still stood in his corner, eyeing the rest of us. "I still think I should go with you on this."

Mikhail blinked, an expression of exasperation hidden to all who didn't know him like I did. "As I've said Preston, I'd prefer you remain here in case another situation arises."

"I understand, just trying to be where I'm most useful." I had to wonder if he was taking my critique about us doing all the heavy lifting the other day to heart.

"Alright, comrades, let's get this done. I'll meet you all at the bridge in five mikes." With that, Mikhail gave me a nod and turned to leave, Goris and Sturges were close behind.

The last to leave was Ben. As he gathered his gear, I offered him the warmest smile I could, "Seriously Ben, thank you for coming on with us, I know the old protocols don't mean much anymore, and I'm sure we aren't exactly the best prospect right now."

Warus strapped on his helmet and clipped his rifle into his sling. "Ma'am, you forget, I've seen the ISA at work. If you and the Ruskie are at the helm, you are the best prospect in the wastes. And as for the old protocols, Semper Fidelis, that doesn't change just because the world is FUBAR. I've been waiting for this for two hundred years."

"If I'm not a marine ma'am, I'm just some thug with gun, and I promised myself and God that I'd never be that way again." He snapped off a crisp salute and then he was out the door.

Which left me alone with Preston. There was a moment of awkward silence before he looked at me from under the visor of his hat and blurted out, "How the hell do you that?"

What was he talking about? "Do what?"

He gestured at the door, "How do you get these people to just follow you? I was talking to Ben before you came in, he seems like a good guy, a great addition to the Minutemen. When his caravan came in, he was ordering everyone around, even the merchant who was paying him treated him like he was in charge, but the second you walk in the door, he's practically on his knees. Same with Mikhail, Goris, Sturges, everyone just immediately treats you like you're in charge, and I don't get why?"

I was about to snap back with a sarcastic retort, but I paused and actually gave it some thought. Finally, I shrugged. "Well, in Ben's case, it's partially a chain of command thing, he's a marine, he lives, eats, sleeps, and breathes the Corps. He's been trained to follow a superior officer, and I happen to be one."

I leaned against the wall, but thought better of it when I felt a sharp piece of metal begin to pierce my jacket. "But the majority of it comes from the fact that we've worked together before and I got the mission accomplished and all of his people out alive. The fact that Nate liked me also kind of sped things along. As for the others, Mikhail doesn't really treat me like I'm in charge, it's more along the lines of us having worked together so long that we normally agree on things, and when we do disagree, we do it privately."

"And the others?" The irritation wasn't there now, it's place had been taken by what was apparently legitimate curiosity.

"Asher owes me his life and I'm fairly sure I'm the first person who has shown him any real kindness in quite a while. Goris seems to be in line with my philosophy, and Sturges just seems to be along for the ride." I folded my arms, "If you're asking why they side with me over you, that's a more difficult question, at least in Sturges's case. Personally, I think it's because he's a reasonable person and he sees that I get results."

"No offense, I get that I agreed to work with you and all, but you get your results in a pretty fucked up way. After last night, I don't know how the hell you sleep at night. Every time I close my eyes…" He shuddered.

I actually felt some sympathy for him. "I could tell you that it gets easier, but it doesn't until after the fifth or sixth time, and I'd really prefer if you didn't have to get to that point."

"Sixth time?" He blanched for a second but shook himself out of it, "I don't get you, I really don't, one minute you act like you hate me and everything I stand for, the next you're saying you admire me. One minute you're talking about how you want to help rebuild the Minutemen, the next you're acting like an up-jumped raider warlord. I mean, are you fucking bipolar?"

"Wait, you know about bipolar disorder?" I shook my head, "No, conversation for another time. In order of your questions, I do like you, it's just that you have so far been in opposition of any plans I've brought you in on, and while you aren't necessary to most of those plans, it has become necessary to keep you in the loop. Thus, I have to manipulate you out of the way. The other answer will require a discussion on philosophy that is way longer than we have time for."

His eyes narrowed, "You were goading me yesterday."

I closed my eyes for a second, not wanting him to see that they were rolling like marbles in a gravity well. "Of course I was goading you, do you honestly believe that I'm that socially inept? I was in covert operations for over a decade, if I'm screaming at you, it's because I've made a conscious decision that it serves my interests."

He shook his head, "So you wanted me pissed, why?"

I sometimes forget how slow people who haven't spent their lives surrounded by some of the best liars in the world can be. "Because either you were going to help or hinder my plans, and if you were going to stand in my way, I needed you gone as soon as possible."

He really seemed like my bluntness was throwing him off. Can't blame him, it's pretty far from what he'd come to expect from me, but this was a new approach, and I thought it might help. "So if I wasn't going to fall in line, you wanted to get me pissed off enough that I'd leave."

Yes, how much more obvious could I make it? Mikhail and Goris had seemed to grasp this concept immediately. "Exactly, I need to find my son, and I need to give him a quality of life somewhat relative to what was enjoyed before the world got nuked. In order to achieve this, I'm willing to do whatever puts me in a stronger position to accomplish those objectives."

"Why are you telling me all of this?"

Ah, finally a question worth asking. "Because despite my little speech the other night, I do actually prefer to maintain at least a somewhat amicable relationship with my colleagues. And manipulating you only seems to piss you off, so now I'm trying brutal honesty."

He looked at me, disbelieving, "I'm… going to need some time to process this 'new you' thing."

It wasn't really a new me, it was just a different approach, but, pointing that out didn't seem like it would help my case, so I settled for, "Sure, take as much time as you need. So long as you do your job."

Severely weirded out, he shouldered past me and was out the door.

I sighed, well, that was two meetings taken care of.

Only two more to go.

…..

Hey guys, So what do you think of Ben? Someone will need to train the new minutemen, or have I said too much?

Speaking of me saying too much, I'm asking this for myself and for you guys, do I need to give another Preston chapter after this? I've been told that I made his character a two dimensional asshole who screams and acts unpleasant, so I've been trying to give him more coverage and characterize him a bit more. It also gives me a chance to go on author tract about moral philosophy.

Still, I don't want to go into it too much, because I feel like it might be annoying. Give me your opinions guys, have I found a good balance for Preston yet, do I need more or should I shut up.

I won't lie, I really want to get Lexington over with and move on to the rest of the story.

I'm also still struggling to keep my focus, I know I say that a lot, but I try and keep you guys apprised of where my mind is so you know where these chapters are coming from.

R&R people